overjoyed_logs | [closed] various prompts

[She's right, of course-- should she have chosen to tell him it was none of his business and that he ought not to have asked, he'd accept it unquestioningly, would apologise for his indiscretion. But she doesn't, and though the slight pause between her answer and his question, the way she scrubs at her face, the subtle language of her body all tell him that perhaps he shouldn't have asked, she does respond. Doesn't shut him down right off the bat.]

Of course.

[More a request than an order, yes, but he'll choose to take it as such, if only because it binds him more completely to confidentiality.]

And...if I shouldn't have asked, there's no need to provide an answer at all.

No, it's okay. You can ask.

[This isn't just about a simple question, because she wants him to know she isn't even going to reprimand or tattle on him for stepping out of line. If he has questions, he can ask them and she won't shut him down, even if the answer is difficult.]

It's just that I don't know. [She smiles, but it's hesitant, unsure.] I've never done anything like that before.

[And her answer, it surprises him. It's something that subtly shows around the edges of his expression, the very slight widening of his strangely-coloured eyes. There's a slight delay before he responds, slightly cautious, unsure of whether he's overstepping the bounds despite her insistence that he's allowed to ask.]

...Instinctive, perhaps? Although...if you hadn't said that, I would have thought you'd received some kind of training.

[His entire focus hadn't been on her, no, but there was something in it that seemed controlled to him. Clean.]

[There are things that feel natural to her, as if she's known how to do it all her life despite having no memory of learning, and this is just another one of those things. Except it makes less sense than knowing how to fly, or sew, or move through a yoga sequence perfectly.]

It feels instinctive, like if I thought about it too hard I'd lose it.

[It's weird to be so honest with someone she hardly knows, but she can't think of any lie that would fit. Company training isn't that comprehensive, not even for Enforcers.]

I see.

[And there's a part of him that thinks he does-- the Dogs, to some extent they'd known what to do, how to act even in those first few moments of opening their eyes, being told - immediately - to kill. All except him anyway, but that's a thought he pushes down hard, locks down tight, doesn't want to remember. The point is, though, they'd been made for it. It was in them, down to the bones. He's not entirely convinced a Company pilot could say the same. Not ordinarily.

But it's not his place to overthink or ask too many questions.]

If it comes to you so naturally, it's a pity you didn't choose a different career. Imagine what you could do with some training.

[He flashes a quick smile, there and then gone again, but there's still that feeling on him. ike something isn't quite adding up.]

[It doesn't feel like a good answer to her, either, but she can't exactly be open about the rest of what's going on, not when she has a feeling that if questioned, Giovanni would be obligated to snitch.]

I happen to like my job, and that was kinda scary.

[Her reaction, the way she looked alive after the fight was over probably doesn't suggest scary, but it is a little unsettling in retrospect.]

[No-- there'd been a look on her then, a scent, something he knows, like recognising like and there'd been something in that, something bright and strange. But this is the answer she gives, and he isn't going to press or pry outside the boundaries of what she's given him (already too much, she could have just told him to shut up and keep out of the way).

So he dips his head. Shrugs.]

Suit yourself, I suppose. It's important, I'm sure, to enjoy what you do.

[And this time his smile is a little sharp, all teeth.]

I had fun. It's been a good day.

[There's a bit of a reversal for a second, where she wants to ask about the destruction he caused, the enjoyment that was so clear when he was viciously hurting people.

But she's not sure she wants to know.]

Is that what you do for the Company?

[Slowly, he nods.]

Yes. That kind of thing, it's what I was made for. Although it isn't always quite as exciting as it was today.

[Sometimes he sticks to using weapons rather than his bare hands, or kills discreetly, but there's something in doing it this way that shines that much brighter for him, makes it that much more fun. Again, he smiles.]

And other kinds of things come up. Bodyguard stints and the like. Transportation duties, playing guard dog, which I'm sure is all they were hoping would happen today.

[There's a brief pause then, as though he's uncertain of whether he should say anything or not, whether it's appropriate, but ultimately he decides it's probably okay because--]

And then there's Mister Kendry, of course.

Of course.

[There's something a little wry in her tone, but that seems the safest thing to comment on, rather than dealing with all the violence that surrounds Giovanni.

There's something itching in the back of her mind, about killing, but she buries it for now because she feels like she has enough to deal with right now.]

Do you like working for Rhys?

[It's pretty clear that he enjoys the violence, but she feels like she should check the rest, since he isn't really able to speak for himself.]

[It's a question that has him frowning, just slightly, the smallest flicker of discomfort discernible in his face because that kind of question, it's not something he's accustomed to answering. His own likes and dislikes, they don't really come into it. There are things he enjoys, things he's been conditioned towards and which sing in his bones and open up a strange dark space in him, red and pulsing, and behind all that there's something else, the small sick tremor of what he had been, the way he started out but--

-- well. With Rhys, it's a little more complicated.

When he answers, it's with some of his earlier reticence, the subservience expected of him.]

He's a Kendry. It's my duty to do my best for him. To do what he wants.

[She sees it, the way he closes off a little, losing some of that freedom, but she isn't going to let go that easily.]

Hey, if you don't tell anyone I helped you beat up those assholes, I won't tell Rhys how you really feel?

[It's a trade that's pretty fair, in her opinion, because she'd really rather not have some Enforcers asking how she could do what she did.]

[There's a moment of hesitation then, some more of that thrumming tension, a false start where his lips part as though to answer, then close again. But then finally there's that quick darting smile, there and then gone, and he shrugs.]

I won't say anything, if that's what you want Ma'am. I'm not above taking credit for your handiwork, hahah.

[A pause, just the length of a heartbeat, and then--]

...I don't mind it. He's less tedious than some of the Company executives I'm assigned to. But...it's confusing. He's confusing. I don't really understand why he keeps putting in requests for me when half the time he has no need of me at all.

I'd appreciate that.

[There's a quirk of a smile in return, since it lifts a bit of weight off her shoulders, but she's more interested about his response to her question regarding Rhys.

And although less tedious is a curious way to put things, it's good to hear that he doesn't hate spending time with Rhys. The more normal experiences Gio can get, the better.]

It's because he considers you a friend. That's why he's never used the Dog Bite, either.

[Again, his brows pull together in a frown, and the confusion on his face, it's an obvious thing.]

But that doesn't make any sense. I'm not his friend. You can't befriend something like me. I think he's...confused. Doesn't really understand what he's dealing with.

[Too much inbreeding among the Nine, perhaps...]

Maybe he doesn't.

[She can admit to that, since she has a feeling that Rhys probably hasn't seen Giovanni in action, doesn't quite realize the extent of what's happening beneath the surface. Rhys is a good friend, but he's not the most observant.]

But I'm pretty sure he'd agree with me that you're a person, not a thing. That's why he can consider you a friend.

[There's a moment then, when the obedient facade crumbles a little further, frustration shining through underneath, and his tongue clicks sharp against his teeth. A sly roll of the eyes.]

Then you're both as deluded as each other. I am a thing-- I'm a weapon, a hound of war, if you will. I'm not like you. Believing differently is foolish and dangerous for the both of you. You saw what I did out there. That's what I'm for. That's what I do. Not...playing tea parties and making friends.

[He's frustrated and there's a sharpness there that she's wary of, but she keeps her own composure steady.]

I saw what you did, I know you're dangerous. [It doesn't mean she can't be friends with him, and just like the thrill of the fight there's something familiar in that thought, as though she's had it before.] But you didn't hurt me.

No, I didn't.

[And when he smiles this time it's barely a smile at all, something sharp and hollow and strange.]

Dogs don't bite their masters. At least, not the ones who've been properly trained.

[That's a little more unsettling, but she swallows down the discomfort. This isn't about her.]

I'm just a pilot.

[Not a Handler, certainly not a master. Something tells her that he could have easily written her off as collateral damage if he'd wanted, especially after the Handler warned her to stay away.]

I wasn't about to go spoiling my perfect track record, now.

[But there's some truth in what she says-- he could have killed her, written her off just as she surmises, but he didn't. It's something he easily passes off as training and the desire to avoid a cut from the Bite, to have any small blemish against his name when among the Dogs he's well known for his control, for his willingness to be controlled.

But he hadn't wanted to kill her. A small kernel of truth that he chooses not to look at or examine to closely or even consciously acknowledge. But it's there in him, dimly, all the same.]

Besides. You may be a pilot, but you're still human, and I'm still a Dog. I'm still beneath you. There's no getting away from that.

Edited 2017-02-06 13:01 (UTC)

[Whether he wants to acknowledge those feelings or not, just the fact he has a perfect track record counts as a point in her favor, she feels. It means that he isn't just some mindless weapon to be tossed at the enemy, not if he can distinguish between friend and foe.

Although the rest of what he says makes her expression twist.]

You can call yourself what you want, but I'm never gonna look down on you.

[There's a moment of silence then, something complex and difficult written in the lines of his face, a quick pulse of frustration and exasperation and confused perplexity, the vague twitch of his free hand as it hangs by his side because her attitude is confounding to him, irritating. But there's also that feeling in him, the one he knows so well but has never really been able to understand, the open wound at the centre of his chest, something steadily bleeding. A strange kind of emptiness, and he doesn't know what to do with it, pushes it roughly to one side. Swallows it back.

Quietly, he looks down and away.]

You're welcome to do what you like, I suppose.

[It isn't much, but it's a start, and when she sighs it only sounds a little tired, a little sad. Giovanni is dangerous and maybe a little broken but she can't bring herself to see him as some kind of monster, not when he's been so thoroughly shaped by other peoples' hands.

In her ear, the AI tells her that Company vehicles are approaching, someone requesting that she meet them outside.]

Back up's here.

[Steph stands up, barely hesitating at the pain in her thigh, and reaches out to put a hand on Gio's shoulder; it's a telegraphed move, giving him a chance to pull away if he wants, but if he allows it, she's going to give his shoulder a little sympathetic squeeze before walking past him towards the exit.]

Let's go say hi.

[He sees it in her before it happens, her body-language clear and easy to read and as such there's no surprise in it when her hand finds his shoulder, squeezes gently, and there's nothing but a slight tensing of the muscles beneath his skin to indicate his mild discomfort. It's not something he's particularly accustomed to, that lightness of touch, any kind of bodily closeness that exists outside of violence, and there's a strange little rushing in him, something long-buried and distant. Again there's that empty feeling behind his ribs, raw almost, but then she's releasing him and the moment passes, a small nod to indicate his compliance.

He says nothing as he follows her out into the wastelands beyond the ship, the remnants of their earlier battle strewn about like macabre discarded toys, and he'll stand still and silent two paces behind her as the Company vehicles pull up, as the handful of reinforcements spill out into brightness of the badlands landscape.

There's a small collection of Enforcers and Intake facility staff, the motley assortment to be expected of a last minute recovery crew. And among them is a familiar face (to Giovanni, at least), one of the regular Handlers from the Kennel, someone who happened to be close enough to answer the call when it came through.

Giovanni's expression, once again, is a stoic and impassive thing.

The woman approaches Steph, glances briefly about at the carnage before giving her an amicable smile.

Jeez, what a mess. I hope our Dog didn't give you too much trouble. Lucky you had it with you though, right? and her eyes go briefly to Giovanni then, looking him over, a trace of amusement written on her face, and look at that, you dressed it up? Cute.

When her gaze returns to Steph, Giovanni subtly rolls his eyes.]

[closed] various prompts

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